From Percy Jackson
by MythMinerva
Summary: When Thalia's tree is dying, Percy Jackson is in sheer panic, as he is powerless to save Camp Half Blood. He must write to his confidant, as there is no other person to tell... Set in Sea of Monsters before Percy, Annabeth and Tyson go to find the Golden Fleece and Grover. T for language and character death involved.
1. Chapter 1

From Percy J

AN: I'm not Rick Riordan, so I only own the character Percy writes to. I also wrote this in a VERY short time, so if I make mistakes, forgive me. This is my first Percy Jackson fanfic, but expect more Harry Potter fanfictions, as I have spent longer as a Potterhead. Rated T for language.

Alright now, I hope you can read Greek now because I can't write in English. Then again, you're not dyslexic and you're a badass, so I think you can manage. This may be short since there's no more time until the monsters come for us.

Camp Half Blood's gone down the ninny, if you Brits call it that. Or maybe that's the wrong expression. Anyways, Thalia's tree is poisoned and we don't know what to do. The only way to restore the safety of Camp Half Blood is to find the Golden Fleece and steal it from Polyphemus. But I'm not allowed to go on the quest, and CLARISSE is, since she won the chariot race, that for some reason was legalised even though three fucking campers died and there were twenty six mutilations.

Grover's been taken by Polyphemus too. So not only we have to find the Golden Fleece, but also Grover, or Polyphemus might marry him (don't laugh.). I wish you were here. You were clever, you were fucking awesome, you were good looking, you were goddamn 6ft 4" and you were a good example of a demigod. While everyone's laughing at Tyson (my new half-brother) and me, they are praising you for your talents. Where are you when I need you?!

Please I'm begging you, come back to Camp Half Blood to set things right. I don't normally beg, but I'm desperate. You would know what to do to make things better. Zeus would be asking where you went as well, his favourite son gone missing. Annabeth wishes you were here as well. Not even she knows how to solve the problem. Thalia's tree is the only thing guarding us away. If she does, the monsters will come back and kill us all. Then we would fail our parents.

Come back come back come back please.

Percy J

AN: It's really up to you to make up the identity of the person Percy writes to in his hour of need. All you need to know is that he is a demigod of Zeus, is intelligent, handsome, 6ft 4" and badass. The rest you can make up as you read.


	2. Chapter 2: The Truth Hits Hard

Chapter 2: The Truth

AN: I recently reread the one shot and realised this: I wrapped things pretty badly, leaving a few confused. I am aware that Percy wouldn't be the prophecy if the demigod of Zeus was still alive and kicking. But I'll explain everything in this chapter.

Rated T for language and themes.

-Start-

"Percy…" Annabeth called out.

"What?"

Percy was sitting alone outside his cabin, waiting for Tyson to finish work with the blacksmith area. It had been a full day since he wrote to his confidant.

"You know that son of Zeus you wrote to yesterday?" Annabeth asked.

"Yes."

"Well…how do I put this lightly?"

Annabeth sighed. Percy looked at her with curiosity.

"He's dead. He was fighting with some other demigods before they deserted him to the mercy of the monsters Hades sent. Chiron's cousins found his body poorly buried in a forest."

The news struck Percy like lightning. His confidant, his friend, his only link to Olympus was dead.

"No." Percy said firmly.

"What do you mean?" Annabeth enquired.

"He is NOT dead. He has to be alive. He's just gone to finish a quest or something, right?"

"Percy, denying his death won't help you-…"

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" Percy yelled, covering his ears as if not hearing about his friend's death would keep him alive.

"Percy, I'm only trying to help you." Annabeth said in a reasonable manner.

"HE IS NOT DEAD!" Percy bellowed, stamping his foot down like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"What IS that racket?!" Dionysus groaned, obviously catching wind of Percy's anger.

"Seaweed Brain's son's throwing a tantrum." Tantalus insisted, attempting to chase an apple.

"Sir, he's not throwing a tantrum. He's in shock of his friend's death-…"

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?! HE IS NOT FUCKING DEAD!" Percy interrupted.

Three satyrs gently took hold of Percy, who somehow calmed down before falling to his knees.

"No-no-no-he-can't-be-dead." He mumbled as if the words all merged into one.

"Do you want to see him?" Annabeth offered.

Percy nodded. Annabeth and the satyrs took Percy to a willow woven mat on the ground below Thalia's tree, which was dying from poison. There lay Percy's saviour and confidant; cuts, bruises, blood and wounds tattooing his limbs, face and torso. There was a musky smell that was obviously artificially made by the satyrs to cover the smell of a rotting corpse. The eyes were gaping open, boring into the souls who stood and observed the pitiful sight. It was like a train wreck; you can't look away, but you know it's going to be horrible.

Percy fell to his knees again in front of the corpse. All everyone could do was watch Percy wallow himself in grief as the grotesque sight had deepened in, creating a mental scar forever.

Annabeth gently nudged Percy.

"Do you want to get some rest?"

Percy nodded. He had enough grief for a whole day. He didn't want to dig himself deeper to the point of depression. However, he made a silent thanks to his friend, for being there when he felt like giving up.

And now he had to save Camp Half Blood. For his friends, his family, the future of demigods and hope for humanity.

-End-

AN: Wow…That went deeper than intended. And now, Percy is the prophecy. (You happy now?) So anyways, you're wondering, why didn't Zeus save him like he saved Thalia earlier?

Well…you can use your imagination to think up on a reason why Zeus didn't save him. Write that down in the review section.

Reviews are wonderful. Flames, however, can't exactly be labelled that.


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